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The Big Bad Wolf reflects |
PUBLIC SERVANT “Hello there! You must be Ned. Of course you are. I know, I know you don’t have to say it.Yes I am. I’d introduce myself but I can tell by the look on your face that there’s no need there. Yessir, my mamma named Humphrey but its been years since anyone’s called me a name besides Big Bad Beautiful Wolf! I’m guessing you’re probably familiar with my work: Peter and Me, The Boy Who Cried Me, Three Little Pigs, Goldilocks (director’s cut), Moonstruck. In fact, on the way over here I was saying to myself, I bet a guy like Ned Schaffley of 1884 Stillwater Drive is a pretty cultured man. Those plastic flamingos in your yard gave that away. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if he even owned my CD, Howling, with its chart topping single Comeback Kid. Heck it might even be in heavy rotation in his CD player as we speak…no?...Well, not important. Anyway, I guess the big question is what’s one of the most recognizable faces of film, music and folklore doing on your, uh, well let’s be kind and call it a porch. I’m sure you’re asking yourself what would bring me, a huge celebrity, out to the residence of Ned Schaffley; a guy who probably gets written up if he forgets to bring his nametag to work and still hasn’t gotten around to fixing the quarter panel on that 1987 Corolla in the driveway and who, no doubt, has made tearful violent love to a blow up doll sometime in the last week.” “Well Ned, the reason I’m here is one of those classic good news bad news situations you hear so much about. You see the “bad news” is I’m here to inform you that a class three violent sexual predator and child molestor has moved into your little cul-de-sac about five doors down. The good news is, it’s me! Whoa, right!! Pretty wild, huh? I can see from the look on your face you can’t believe your good luck. I bet your probably ready to run out and tell all your friends (and by friends I of course mean those people at whatever Laundromat you go to whose clothes haven’t finished drying yet.) about the big movie star that just moved into the neighborhood. Well first things first, I’m gonna need you to sign this right here. And here…Okay, I just need the date here…Cool. And here’s your copy. Read it over sometime if you need a good laugh. The state of California has these crazy requirements about notifying the neighbors of..well, blah, blah, blah. You can read it yourself. Or, at least sound out the big words. The bottom line is that these politicians will do anything for a vote. It doesn’t matter if you were, like in my case, wrongly accused, wrongly arrested, and wrongly sentenced. I have to still go door-to-door and explain my little situation. My publicist suggested some kind flyer in the mailbox but I’ve never been one afraid to get my paws dirty and meet my adoring public. In fact, I’m sure you’ll think this is hilarious, back in my frat days you know what my nickname was? Sexual Predator! Ha, heh, heh…you get it right? Because I’m a…you know…well that’s neither here nor there.” “I can see by your silence, that you’re still a little intimidated by meeting a $500 million mega-star for the first time. Probably the closest you’ve ever come to someone of my status was when your uncle Jethro broke into the Comcast box and gave everybody free cable for a week. Well don’t be shy, Ned. Put aside the minor detail that I wanted a little more from life than a beer can collection and an autographed picture of my favorite professional wrestler and you’ll see I’m a regular guy just like yourself. In fact feel free to air up the Mrs. and drop by sometime for a little dinner. My chef, makes a mean..uh, well what’s the point you’ve never heard of it anyway. But to be honest with you I don’t miss Hollywood. Not one bit. All those people and their power meetings and their cell phones. Who needs them? I’m glad I left that place. Same as I’m glad I left Rio Cucamanga after that, and San Diego, and San Francisco, and Palo Alto, Anaheim, Berkely, Taos, Chicago, Las Vegas. I’ll tell you what Ned you’ll never know how closed minded people can be until you’ve been in a situation like mine. But that’s behind me now. I need to be surrounded by salt of the earth folks such as yourself here in, well I believe you natives call it Bakersfield. I won’t tell you there haven’t been a few adjustments. The other day I went to ask Mrs. Dean across the street if she had some chlorine solution I could borrow and then I suddenly remembered no one else in a 30 square mile radius owns an Olympic fully-heated indoor swimming pool which by the way is open to the public; kids, adults, whoever twenty-four hours a day seven days a week. No charge. You see that’s the kind of neighbor I am, generous to a fault. In fact some might even say it was my big heart that got me into this mess.” “Okay, Okay, since I’m sure you’re dying to hear the gory little details, here it goes. Long story short. After I received the lifetime achievement award from the academy in 2002 I was taking a little me time. I needed a break I wanted to spend some time on my memoirs, get more involved in my charities. I hosted a benefit concert to raise legal aid funds for Second Little Pig after he shot that cop. Basically I had said to myself ‘Hugh, the world knows the Big Bad Wolf but do you?’ Anyway somewhere around this time I became involved with a much younger actress. She was struggling to break into show business and she needed help. Now if you saw the trial you probably noticed that big red hood they put over her face when she testified. They’ll tell you that’s to protect the anonymity of the “victim” but I can tell you the only thing being protected is the prosecution’s case. I mean one look at this little sexpot and you’ll know whole story. I mean to tell you, well heck Ned we’re both men of the world so to speak. The first time I watched her walk home from school…I haven’t felt like that since I was a cub. This girl could blow my house down! Yasssir!!! Oh god, the way she bounced a four-square ball or played patty-cake. That bitch could raise matzah, if you know what I’m saying. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you Ned. I know you’ve felt this way yourself a time or two. Anytime you pass by a sheep farm for example. Or maybe that episode of COPS when your younger sister got busted for crystal meth.” “Now in retrospect I suppose the whole thing seems a little foolish. I truly wanted to believe her when she said she loved me. My therapist calls this narcissism but I just call it life. You see Ned, I wasn’t realistic with myself about the kind of relationship that really takes place between a 45 year old wolf and a nine year old girl. I wanted to give her the world but was she ready to settle down? No. It is the old song Ned, the old song. Anyway we had arranged for a private acting lesson at her Grandmother’s house. Normally I only do that sort of thing out of my studio but this once I made an exception. I remember I had gotten there a little early and I was setting up some um…trust exercises we’d be working on. Well I needed to take my pain medication first…bad back from all those years of doing my own stunts. I remember there was a little bottle of wine on the table that I used to wash down the percoset, and well the next thing I remember I’m in central booking next to some Puerto Rican transvestite who’s trying to braid my fur. Now one theory about what happened involves some kind of crazy combination of me, don’t laugh, eating the grandmother and then dressing up in her clothes or something like that. Yeah, I know. How stupid can you get? I guess they did some x-rays while I was still passed out, that’s completely unconstitutional by the way. And they found something that might have been, I repeat might have been a cane and a colostomy bag. But who’s to say right? Fortunately both the judge and the arresting officers were big fans and they didn’t believe a word of it. I posed for a few pictures with their kids signed a couple autographs and I was home in two hours. I figured the worst was over. Not so. I guess those Brown Shirts over at the FBI have been too busy stripping Americans of their civil liberties to notice any of the great cultural contributions of the last hundred years because a week later my estate was raided by our own federal government. Of course they found nothing. Well practically nothing. I mean a 400,000 square foot compound and all you find is one little computer. I know huh? Our tax dollars at work. Why don’t they just raid the library of congress, maybe you’ll find some child porn there. Did I say child porn? Whoa! That’s all the stress I’ve been under what with moving and all. No. The only thing on the computer was 335 downloaded files of creative erotica, a few websites dedicated to the best method to kill and eat a grandmother, my fantasy football team (go Jets!) and a very blurry video tape of some type of animal, probably a large possum, dancing around in a bloody nightgown and burping up what could be bi-focals. No big deal right? Sure, until that pack of hyenas called the American media get a hold of the story. How did those files get on the computer? Hmmm…Well my attorneys say I shouldn’t comment but Ned, between you, me and those Christmas lights you’ve decided to leave up all year round…let’s just say never give your password to your El Salvadoran maid.” “Anyway Ned I’m sure you could stand here and listen to me talk all day but I’ve got more neighbors to meet, more hearts to throb as it were. But, whatever you do, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Sure work has been a little slow since the incident but I land on my paws. I’ve got a reality show in the works and there’s some serious interest in my autobiography, if we can ever get past those pesky Son Of Sam laws. Even though I’ve been a victim of circumstance I don’t regret a moment of it. It’s brought me so much closer to the little people of the world. Or in some cases the completely unimportant people. So, you can’t miss it. Five doors down. I’m the one with the ranch, the amusement park, and the two Picassos hanging out front. So stop by. We can crack a few beers and maybe you can tell me some great story from your life, like, I don’t know…maybe that time at work when no one knew how to fix the vacuum cleaner but you. Oh, but if you and old Blowey Chloe are planning on baking me some welcome to the neighborhood brownies, I’d really prefer you just got them from the store.” |